


My Heart Yearns for You

by Proton6



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Harry Dies, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 14:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30023007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proton6/pseuds/Proton6
Summary: There was not a year that she did not come.And how many, pray tell, has it already been?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	My Heart Yearns for You

There was not a year that she did not come.

And how many, pray tell, has it already been?

Nineteen.

Nineteen summers, nineteen winters.

And soon, it will be twenty.

She pushed past the 'mourners' bearing flowers and opened the gate. The cemetery beyond was empty, as she knew that he would want it to be. He never liked his 'fame', never revelled in the 'well-wishes' of his admirers. And she knew that he would want the same now.

Headstones stretched out in front of her, bearing names painfully familiar. If she looked, she would find Remus, Tonks, Fred, Colin…

She walked briskly past all of them, guilt flowing through her as she ignored them, the muscle memory in her legs carrying her in a beeline towards the only one that she had come to see.

She knew when to stop. She turned towards the tombstone, and she did not need to read them to know what they said.

_Harry James Potter_

_31/07/1981 – 02/05/1998_

_To the Dead the Living owe their lives_

She looked towards the sky. A single tear began to roll down her cheek as she did her best to swallow the rest. Images flooded into her mind. A night, more than nineteen years ago…

* * *

_It was cold. That was the only thing that Hermione could feel. The thin canvas of the tent did nothing to keep out the biting winter chill. All the clothes she had did little to keep the cold from going down into her bones. She could feel the air freeze her lungs with each breath that she drew._

_And of course, there was the coldness in her heart. Ron had stormed out, two weeks ago, now. She could still remember the words that he had shouted in his rage._

' _I get it. You choose him.'_

_And if she had to be honest with herself, did she not choose Harry? Had she not always?_

_But those words still stung. They numbed her, tore at her heart. She did not know how to feel. Would she be betraying Ron if she submitted? But she also knew that she could not keep living a lie forever…_

_She had not know how long she had been sitting there for, huddled up in a ball on one of the steps of the tent, her chin on her thighs. She was aware of Harry sitting across from her in one of the broken-in armchairs, but she did not internalise his presence. To her left, a wireless, tuned to a muggle channel, was playing a melancholy tune, and she found that it soothed her somehow, made the numbness a little less unbearable._

_She looked up and found Harry standing right in front of her. His right hand was outstretched in an obvious invitation. She looked up into his emerald eyes and was taken momentarily aback by the softness that they held._

_She debated with herself momentarily, but almost automatically, she reached out with her hands and took his. They were, somehow, warm and soft. He clasped his left hand over hers and pulled her to her feet._

_Harry backed slowly into the centre of the tent, and Hermione followed him without thought. He began to sway slowly, and she went along with him, reluctantly and sluggishly at first, but as they got into the rhythm of the song, picking up the pace._

_She felt herself smile. A smile, so rare these days. And Harry was the one that had managed to put it on her face._

_In that moment, the decision was made. There would be no coming back._

_It was not much of a decision at all._

_They twirled around each other, and Hermione felt her smile grow wider. She was no longer cold, no longer numb. She was happy. Maybe even a touch euphoric as she looked into Harry's eyes._

_The song began to wind down, and they found themselves in each other's arms, neither wanting to let go of the other. Hermione pulled away first, but only to look into Harry's eyes. They were even gentler than they were before, and filled with longing and something that she could not place, but something that filled her with an indescribable sense of warmth._

_And it just happened. There was no build-up, no prelude. They leaned towards each other and their lips met._

_And the moment they did, Hermione realised what she had known all along. There would be no one else for her. It felt so…right…like the fulfilment of a longstanding prophecy._

_An eternity passed before they separated, and Hermione's gaze met Harry's again. There was pure joy and love in his eyes, and Hermione knew that there was no going back. She was his for eternity, and he was hers._

* * *

She fell to her knees in front of the tombstone, her legs no longer able to bear her weight. Her eyes fell upon the grass under which he lay, forever, not knowing and never knowing that she was there. The late spring sun shone, augmenting the vivid green of life. A breeze blew through, and the stalks danced gently and elegantly, tickling her ankles under her black dress.

It had been nineteen whole years that she had seen him last, and not a day went by when she did not miss him. The fire that had been lit all those years ago in the tent had not been extinguished. She was his for eternity, and it mattered not that he was now where she would never reach him again.

There were wildflowers dotting the grass in front of the headstone – life would always find a way. She wondered if he would like them. He had always loved the simpler beauty in things, less so the grand gestures.

The white marble had dirtied in the last year, and she slowly and purposefully drew her wand, waving it in a small circle. The grime disappeared, but now, the tombstone looked morbidly new, like it had just been placed. It may as well be new to her, though. For her, time had stopped on this day, nineteen years ago, and she was trapped here forever, a prisoner in a demented reality.

* * *

_They could even stay here, Hermione had decided. Grow old. She would be happy._

_But she knew that could never be possible. If they stayed here, it would only be a matter of time before he…_

_She felt him shift behind her under the covers. He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on the base of her neck, just above her shoulder. His face was a little prickly, but that only added to his charm. It was still hard to believe sometimes that the eleven-year-old that had jumped on a troll for her was now almost a grown man._

' _Maybe we should just stay here, Harry,' she breathed out before she knew what she was saying. 'Grow old together.'_

_He chuckled. 'Is that what you want?'_

' _I…I…'_

' _You could say "yes". It's what I'd want, too.'_

_Hermione drew in breath. 'You do?'_

' _Of course I do,' Harry replied. 'And we will. We'll come back here, after the war is over. We'll have a house in the woods, away from it all. It'll be just you and me.'_

' _You…you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Really?'_

' _Hermione,' Harry said with a sigh, resting his head on her shoulder. 'There's no one else I'd rather spend my life with.'_

' _You would – '_

' _I'd ask you to marry me right now,' he said with a small chuckle. It was in jest, but Hermione knew already what her answer would be if he had asked that question for real._

_She flipped around, cupped his cheeks, and rolled over so that she was on top of him, their faces almost touching. She could see every trace of colour in his eyes…_

' _I'll hold you to that promise,' she whispered teasingly._

' _I don't intend to break it,' he replied, pulling her towards him in a deep and euphoric kiss._

* * *

He never did intend to break his promise.

He had always been so brave. In the old days, she would have called it reckless, but the thought that she had ever used that word on him now cut into her heart.

She reached forward towards the now-whitened marble tombstone and set the wreath down gently before it, straightening it meticulously and arranging the petals until they looked perfect to her.

Christmas roses.

'I miss you,' she croaked, hoping that somehow, somewhere, he might hear her. 'It would never be the same without you.'

But the word 'miss' did anything but describe the feeling in her heart. It was so much more than longing that she felt. It was an existential sort of grief that coursed through her veins and ripped at her soul.

It had been nineteen years since that night. She had not known then that it would be an eternal farewell. She had taken so much for granted…

* * *

_They walked back in silence. The sounds of battle had fallen mute around them as Voldemort's forces retreated. The courtyard was strewn with debris, rubble, and bodies that she could not identify. How many of them were those of students? She hoped that it would not be many, but she also knew that that was empty hope._

_She dared not look over at Harry's face, but by the force of his grip on her hand, she did not need to see to know the anguish that he was suffering. She wished that she could say something to comfort him, soothe him, but it would just be empty words._

_They reached the Great Hall. The wounded lay along the walls as students and healers alike attended to them to the best of their ability. In the middle of the great space, however, were the worst sight of them all. Rows and rows of stretchers, covered by white blankets. The dead._

_It was all a blur to her. Remus, Tonks, Fred…she did not know what to feel, or even if she could still feel. She had spoken to some of them just hours ago, and now they were lying under the starry sky of the Great Hall…_

' _I need to go.'_

_Harry's voice snapped her out of her trance. She spun around on the spot, jaw dangling open in surprise._

' _Wh-Where?'_

' _The Pensieve,' he replied. 'I need to see the memories that Snape left me.'_

' _I'll go with you,' she said automatically._

_Harry shook his head. 'You're needed here.'_

_Hermione wanted to argue, but Harry shook his head. 'I'll be right back. Don't you worry.'_

' _Don't do anything stupid,' she blurted out, before wanting to slap herself for saying what she had just said._

_The corners of his mouth twitched. 'Of course I won't.'_

' _Come back to me,' she pleaded, somehow not having faith in his assurance. 'The promise…remember what we promised each other…'_

' _I won't ever forget,' Harry said gently. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to hers. 'When this is all over, we'll do all that and more.'_

_With one last smile, he turned around and walked away towards the doors. Hermione wanted irrationally to follow him, to go with him regardless of what he had told her, but some force rooted her to the spot. It would all be fine, she told herself. He would be back. He had promised, after all, and Harry would never break a promise to her._

_So even when she saw his cold, lifeless body hours later, she refused to accept the truth._

* * *

She sat back on her heels, staring at the grave, unable to form words. Some part of her still refused to believe it, still held out blind hope that this was all a cruel prank, that he would appear out of nowhere and make up for all those lost years. But she knew it was folly. He was gone, and the dead belonged with the dead.

'Everyone's doing well,' she breathed, holding blind hope that he would be able to hear her. 'Ron's eldest son is about to leave Hogwarts now. Ginny's youngest daughter went this year. She loves it there.'

There was no response from the cold stone, and she felt hot tears pour down her cheeks at the silence. But it did not faze her as she continued, stubbornly and resolutely. In some way, she saw it as repaying him, that perhaps, if he could hear her, he would rest easy knowing what he had given to them all.

'We won the election in the Wizengamot again,' she continued. 'Kingsley says he's retiring next year. He says he wants me to succeed him…'

'I have so much I want to do, Harry. Expansion of house-elf rights…a universal rights declaration…I don't even know where to start. I wish I had you here to help me figure it all out…'

Tears poured down her face in earnest now, and she gave in. Her sobs gave way to bawls and cries of misery directed at the heavens.

It was so unfair. Why out of everyone, it had to be him? Why did fate always choose the good to take away?

And why did she have to stay behind?

But she knew that she had to go on.

He had fallen so that she could live.

And she would live on for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write this version of events since Just a Matter of Time all those months ago. Finally, I got around to writing it.
> 
> The planned series re-write is still in the works. I'm targeting hopefully a June release of the first chapters of Year 1, but that's very speculative and might be a little optimistic. There may be the odd one-shot like this in the time between, so stay tuned. :)
> 
> Title refers to the following - Mein kleines Herz/sehnt sich nach dir/kennt die Antwort wenn du mich dann fragst/ja, ich gehöre zu dir


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